


it's a beautiful night

by wintercreek



Category: due South
Genre: Accidental Marriage, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-28
Updated: 2010-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-13 10:33:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintercreek/pseuds/wintercreek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>it's a beautiful night / we're looking for something dumb to do<br/>hey baby, I think I wanna marry you</i><br/>-Bruno Mars</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's a beautiful night

"How on earth is it possible that we did this?" Meg pinches the bridge of her nose and waves a hand at the paper on the table. The ring on her finger catches the light.

Benton has to crack his neck before answering. "Well, sir, I suspect that–"

"Fraser. Uh, Ben?" She waits for him to nod - he'll answer to 'Ben' - before continuing. "We evidently got married last night. You don’t have to call me sir."

"Meg." Every time she gestures he looks at the ring. He thinks it's his mother's ring. That would make sense. Where else would he have gotten a ring at ten o'clock at night? "How much of last night do you remember?"

She flushes. "I remember an excruciating reception with the staff of the North American and European embassies, and, ah, I remember it being livened up considerably by the arrival of the Spanish ambassador. And then the Mexican attaché brought out a bottle of Patrón." Meg furrows her brow. "You like tequila?"

"I do. Perhaps a bit much, judging by the haziness of much of last night." Ben looks down at his hands and wonders where _his_ ring came from. "I hardly ever indulge, as you doubtless know, but I recall feeling rather, erm, determinedly free-spirited last night."

Meg puts her hand on his - her left hand on his left hand, and their rings clink. They both startle. "This is surreal," she murmurs. "If we were as 'free-spirited' as it seems last night, we must have had assistance in wedding each other. I can't imagine we organized it ourselves."

"This would appear to be the signature of the Mexican attaché, she of the troublesome Patrón," Ben says, squinting at the marriage license. "And the French ambassador. And – does the Italian consulate have a priest on staff?"

"Apparently. Perhaps we should hold these get-togethers in a neutral location, with no legally binding forms." She rubs at her eyes with her right hand; her left is still on his. "It doesn't seem likely that we, er, consummated things. An annulment should be easy enough, and neater than a divorce." She must feel him stiffen and start to pull back, because she suddenly brings her head up and catches his eyes. "If we want to. I'm not saying–"

Ben sighs. "I hardly want you to feel trapped with me, Meg. This is all highly irregular, and–"

"And nothing!" she breaks in. "Ben. We must, on some level, want to be married or we wouldn't be in this position now. 'In vino veritas,' as they say."

Feeling cautiously hopeful, Ben offers, "It does bypass the issues of staff fraternization rather neatly."

Meg nods. "It does. And, if we're being honest, I can't say that I’m opposed to– It's not as though we've done anything else conventionally, with the kissing on trains and the semaphore flirtation. We could– We could try it?"

"We could." He smiles, suddenly and strangely relieved, and turns his left hand over under hers. Her palm is warm against his. "May I ask where the ring came from?"

"It, ah, it was left over." She smiles sadly. "I was engaged not long after I finished at the Depot, and I'd already obtained his ring when my fiancé left me. I can get you another, of course. But last night it must have seemed a good idea."

They sit in silence for long minutes before Meg lifts their clasped hands and examines the ring she wears. "Your mother's?"

"Mmm," Ben nods. "Perhaps we can wear these for now? A month's trial period?"

Meg squeezes his hand. "A month. Sounds good." Her mouth quirks into a flirtatious smile. "If we're going to be married for the next month, we'd better go consummate things."

He stares at her, brain derailed, until her expression turns nervous and she stammers, "Um, not that– We don't have to–" Then he breaks in, "Yes. I think we definitely should."

He could watch her mouth for the rest of their lives, Ben thinks, as she breaks into a broad grin and stands up. "Come on," she says, tugging at his hand. "The Queen's in Saudi Arabia all week. There's no chance of a surprise visit." Her grin widens at the bark of laughter she startles out of him.

"All right. But we mustn't tell Turnbull. He'd be scandalized," he says seriously as he stands up and kisses his wife.


End file.
